A Lover's Creed
by Catshire
Summary: After 10 years of living a life drowned in revenge, Ezio Auditore has lost the element of humanity known as love. Knowing only how to satisfy his lust for women, he remains spiritually unsatisfied through every affair. Will Ezio find love and comfort through the person he would least suspect? Some Ezio/Rosa, eventual Ezio/Leo. Rated M for sexual themes, not smut.
1. Chapter 1

Just a word of warning to anyone reading this, **I am by no means an expert on Italian**. Everything in Italian came straight from Google translate, so I am aware that it very well might be incorrect. On a similar note, I do not plan to include translations so if you are truly curious as to what's being said, please pull up a tab so Google translate can be your best friend.

**...And please feel free to review/critique!** I'm not only writing this to please the fandom but also to challenge myself as a writer. I have an idea of where I want to go but I'm not entirely sure how to get there, so I'd be happy to have some ideas bounced off me as well. :)

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Surrounded by three alluring women, courtesans of the finest selection, Ezio was not satisfied. Having returned to the brothel immediately after his assassination of Marco Barbarigo, the newest Doge initiated by the Knights Templar, of course it was natural for a man to desire release. Racing across Venetian rooftops and barreling through crowded streets was not considered an easy job by any means - even the most adept assassins had their physical and mental limits. Catering to his body's desires, he had accepted the courtesans' pleasure with more than just open arms, edging them on in more ways than could be considered subtle. At the time, he had wanted everything the courtesans had to offer him, and he had gladly taken it.

Though his physical needs had been met, however, the women had failed to fulfill the second layer of his being - his mind.

"_Mi scusi signoras_, but I think your work here is finished."

The courtesans whined in unison. The seductress in red began trailing her fingers down his bare chest.

"Are you sure, _maestro_? There's still a long night ahead of us - there's still so much fun to be had." He felt her fingers nearing his crotch. Ezio jerked her hand away roughly, but realizing what he had done, he covered it up with a kiss to the hand.

"_Si_, I need some rest. _Ma_ _grazie_."

"Oh, but we should be the ones thanking you. It's not so often we have a man such as you grace our beds," the yellow vixen cooed.

"I'll take that as a compliment."

The women giggled like children as they gracefully slid out of the bed and through the doorway. Before she shut the door, the crimson courtesan peeked her head back in to offer Ezio one last invitation.

"If you change your mind... all you need is ask."

"_Molto bene allora_."

She shut the door and the giggling faded away. Ezio let go a sigh of relief - now he could have some time to focus in on himself.

Tired of lounging around on a straw mattress, he swung his legs over the side of the bed to pull his pants on. Tying them at the front, he made his way over to doorway leading out onto the balcony. A breeze ruffled his hair as he breathed in the night air.

What was wrong with him? He slid his palm, frustrated, down his face, his elbow supporting him as he stood against the banister. Here he was, Ezio Auditore da Firenze, now a skilled assassin, gazing off into the romantic city of Venice. Though his hometown of Florence had its own rugged splendor to it, it couldn't even compare with where he stood now - a stunning costal city, populated with some of the loveliest women he had ever set his eyes upon. Yet nothing, the women or the majesty of the architecture, seemed to satiate the unsatisfied feeling that gripped his heart. When he first began his foray into this chaotic puzzle of Templar schemes, the feeling had been fleeting, but as time went on, it increased in intensity and duration. This was the strongest he had ever felt it - it was embedded in his gut, as if he was forever falling from a building into a cartful of hay. He couldn't quite place the sensation, but he knew for sure that it was an unpleasant one. A void seemed to exist in his being where not even he could venture.

Ezio also felt as if he were about to explode, a simmering sexual frustration that seemed to latch onto him every night he shared his bed with a mistress. Yes, he desired their company, he desired their bodies and what they could offer him. He lusted for them. But no matter how beautiful or how skilled they were, he always ended back at square one - dissatisfaction. Why did he even allow this spiral to keep happening? Ezio supposed it was because he felt a draw to the rush of the moment, the rush of his blood coursing through his veins and the building tension that would lead to his final release. However, that's all it seemed to provide him - physical release. Every time he would make love to a woman, somewhere in the back of his mind Ezio would feel completely and utterly alone. There was no love to the act - just animalistic hunger for the sensation. At best he might be friends with the woman beneath him, but that actually made it worse in the long run because it was a definite act of him taking advantage of her.

In his mind, Ezio didn't even know what the true definition of love was anymore. For ten years his life had been fueled by nothing but vengeance for his father and brothers who had been ruthlessly murdered due to the seemingly infinite Templar conspiracy. Though his retribution may have originally been fostered by the love for his family, the base emotion itself had been twisted so much that he no longer recognized it. Ezio felt as if he was slowly losing his humanity, his inner and outer demons pulling him ever further into a realm of no return.

The assassin was forever treading a line between chaos and order. The level-headedness he presented his comrades with every day was, to a certain level, a facade - it required complete mastery over what emotions he opted to share with the world, a skill he had learned gradually over the months following the murders of his family. In the beginning it was quite common for him to duck away from his uncle Mario during his training days at the villa so that he could hide his visible emotions and muster up enough effort to conceal what he really felt. However, over time he had mastered his feelings so that he could hide them as well as he could veil himself from the city guard, to such a degree that he found it hard to express himself. Because of this, the tension forever building inside his mind could never be extinguished, merely quelled. It was a constant battle that could never be won.

Ezio lifted his eyes towards the celestial black sheet above him. He watched as the stars were slowly overtaken by a black mass of clouds - a storm was on the horizon. Frustrated that he could not even escape his inner turmoil in the face of nature, he stomped his way back into the room and threw himself onto the bed. Sleep, he wanted sleep - anything so that he could escape the shadows that cast themselves over his soul. He turned onto his side and closed his eyes, trying to force himself into his subconscious. Once he had finally given way to silence both inside and outside his mind however, Ezio heard a rhythmic thumping beyond one of his walls - Antonio must still be at it. He laid there for a few minutes before the thumping gave way to raucous laughter. Ezio groaned - tired or not tired, three courtesans or none, he needed peace and quiet if only for a few hours. Ezio hastily dressed himself and gathered what few things he traveled with as thunder sounded somewhere in the distance.

It was time for yet another visit to_ Bottega di da Vinci_.


	2. Chapter 2

The assassin ducked hastily under the overhang that guarded Leonardo's workshop and knocked on the door. He waited a few seconds to no avail - there was no answer. Ezio rapped harder. His friend still did not answer. Worried that Leonardo might very well be out for the night and his trek in the rain was for naught, he tried the door which surprisingly swung inward. He stepped inside to see Leonardo painting by candlelight on a huge canvas.

"Ever the artist, Leonardo."

Leonardo spun around, nearly dropping his palette in the process.

"Ezio! _Mi amico_, is something the matter? You never visit this late."

"No, I was just-"

"Your clothes Ezio, you're soaking wet! _Per favore, per favore_, come inside!"

Ezio felt a small grin play on his lips as he closed the door behind him and made his way into the studio. Leonardo skittered about, hastily trying to find a spot for his palette so that he could attend to his guest. He eventually found one but many papers and knickknacks clattered to the floor as a result.

"I see you still can't keep yourself organized."

"I'll clean it up later - really, really it's not a priority right now." Leonardo dragged Ezio further inside by the arm to finally stand on a fine rug near a group of candles.

"Leonardo, the rug -"

"It'll dry. Now tell me Ezio, what brings you to my home this time of night in the driving rain?"

Ezio couldn't help but laugh at his friend's concern.

"You should calm down. Nothing's wrong, I just needed to get out somewhere that's dry."

"Out from where?"

"La Rosa Della Virtù."

Leonardo didn't seem to hear where he "escaped" from - probably for the best considering he didn't want to speak of anything that would dredge up his inner emotions.

"We need to get you out of these clothes."

"Does it even matter? I'm not a newcomer to swimming in -"

"It doesn't matter, Ezio. It's bad for your health, no matter how you paint the picture. You need to take this dripping mess off before you catch a cold."

"It's fine really. I can just -"

"No. Take them off - I'll fetch you something of mine. There's a small room in the back you can use," Leonardo said, pointing him in the right direction. "Now hurry up! Let me just find something..."

Ezio made his way to his designated changing space, stifling a laugh as his friend tore the room apart to find him something to wear. The assassin quickly found himself in what appeared to be a cluttered storage room. In all the years he had known him, he really hadn't changed at all. Shutting the door behind him to the noises of Leonardo destroying his studio, he immediately began to strip himself down. Bit by bit, Ezio felt his body grow lighter as he shed the drenched clothing. Soon enough he stood bare in the storage room.

The knob turned and the door squeaked slightly open. Ezio jumped.

"_Dio_, Leonardo! Did it ever occur to you to knock first? Just because I enter places without knocking doesn't mean an assassin doesn't desire his privacy!"

"Relax, _mi amico_. I'm just throwing you some clothes. No need to work yourself up over nothing. Now watch, I'm going to drop it and shut the door - _non agitarti_."

His host threw a bundle of fabric into the storage room floor. As soon as he was closed off from the main studio, Ezio separated it to find a cream-colored linen shirt and a brown pair of loosely fitting brown breeches. He made for the pants first, followed by a struggle with the top - it didn't fit correctly which made sense considering Leonardo didn't spend his days scaling buildings, inadvertently toning his upper body in the process. With a small sigh, Ezio attempted to fold it up the way he found it and then opened the door to the workshop.

"_Mi dispiace_, but the shirt didn't work for me. I hope you don't mind."

Leonardo spun around towards Ezio, taking what seemed a bit longer than normal to elicit a response.

"_Bene_?" Ezio inquired with raised eyebrows.

"It's fine, really its... not everyone has my... body type," he stammered.

"Leonardo, should I be the one asking you if everything's okay?"

"No, I'm fine, really. I've probably just been overworking myself... as usual." Leonardo gestured towards a small stuffed couch. "Mia casa è tua casa."

Ezio weaved his way through tables among other objects and sat down on half of the couch that was offered to him.

"Really, Ezio, _per favore_, make yourself at home."

"If you insist." Ezio spread his body over the length of the couch. After sleeping on straw mattresses and god else knows where for the past so many months, he felt as if he were lying on luxury. Leonardo had returned to his painting by the time he got situated.

"So Ezio, why are you really here?" He swiped a stripe of paint over the canvas.

Ezio had been hoping that his friend would forget to ask. He provided him a comment that spoke "Don't ask".

"I just needed some peace and quiet for awhile."

"I see."

A silence followed Leonardo's terse remark. Ezio truly appreciated that his friend didn't inquire into things that he would rather not talk about, but since he did show up an unexpected guest...

"I'll tell you tomorrow."

"As you wish."

Another silence. Ezio watched as Leonardo worked on his painting. A long swipe here, a dab there, some mixing on his palette... to watch him work was just fascinating. Though he hadn't held the same opinion when they had initially met, Ezio regarded Leonardo as a prodigy. He was multi-talented, from painting to inventing and worlds beyond, the man was a genius, managing to add a certain aesthetic quality to everything that made his pieces seem larger than life. All Ezio was good at was climbing buildings and killing people - not the most elegant skillset.

To watch Leonardo work was mesmerizing.

"So, what is this newest creation?" Ezio asked in attempt to break the lull in conversation.

Leonardo chuckled. "Well, I wouldn't exactly call it new. It's a work in progress that I've been attending to over the past few months. I finally picked up some inspiration today and here I am."

"Working yourself to death in the middle of the night? How surprising," Ezio laughed.

"_Bene_, I may look diligent now but I find it quite difficult to finish what I start."

"If that's so, then how do you manage to churn out my codex pages?"

"You're a special case."

"I'll take you for your word."

The painter laughed once more. "But, to answer your question, this is 'Virgin of the Rocks'."

"I'm afraid I don't quite see it."

"Like I said, it's a work in progress."

Yet another silence as Leonardo placed another touch on the canvas.

"You know Leonardo, you should really finish more of your paintings."

The man turned to face Ezio, mixing a pool of paint all the while. "And what makes you say that?"

"I have never met another man with such a talent for artistry."

"Talent alone is not reason enough to finish something."

"But wouldn't you of all people think it a crime to leave such beauty unfinished?"

"Ezio, take this word of advice from me - an artist is never finished with his work. So whether I stop now or when I send it off to the commissioner, it will always be unfinished in my eyes." He returned to his work. "But _grazie_ for the compliment, _mi amico_."

Yet another silence followed the short discourse. Ezio continued to observe his friend paint. Swipe, swipe, dab, swipe, swipe, dab. Watching his friend work was almost as beautiful as the work itself, even though he couldn't make anything out of it. But it didn't matter - beauty didn't have to be recognizable.

The next thing Ezio knew he blacked out to the scene of Leonardo painting his masterpiece.


End file.
